


Teenage Dirtbag

by mevious



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/M, Humanstuck, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-08
Updated: 2014-07-08
Packaged: 2018-02-08 00:21:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1919667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mevious/pseuds/mevious
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a songfic to the song "Teenage Dirtbag" by Wheatus.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Teenage Dirtbag

_Her name is Noel._  
 _I had a dream about her,_  
 _She rings my bell._  
 _I've got gym class in half an hour._  
 _Oh how she rocks,_  
 _In Keds and tube socks._

_But she doesn't know who I am  
And she doesn't give a damn about me._

Her name is Roxy Lalonde, and you aren't quite sure what it is about her. She wears funny looking off-the-shoulder sweaters with cats on them, stretchy pink skirts, bright pink Keds and yeah, she wears tube socks. It's goofy and not at all the high fashion you're used to with the WASPy girls at this school, but it suits her. It suits her so goddamn perfectly, and if only you could get up the nerve to fuckin' talk to her one of these days...

But you're getting ahead of yourself here. Your name is Eridan Ampora, and your father owns half the goddamn city. By all calculations, you should be a hot fuckin' commodity around here. Your dad's rich, you've got more money than you know what to do with, and it's not like you're necessarily bad-lookin' or anything. Unfortunately for you, none of that seems to matter. Your dad's wealth isn't helping your popularity any. You suppose it wouldn't, really. Everyone at this school comes from money. Yours doesn't matter.

What does matter is the fact that you like wizards and that you're on the fuckin' LARP team. Sure, you have fun playing, and you've met some half-decent friends along the way -- none as high-class as you, mind, but half-decent -- but sometimes you wish you'd never signed up. Oh, you'd been stupid back then. Just a freshman, new to the socio-political minefield that was high school. You weren't thinking about who you'd go with to prom back then. You hadn't even laid _eyes_ on Roxy Lalonde yet.

_'Cause I'm just a teenage dirtbag baby,_  
 _Yeah I'm just a teenage dirtbag baby,_  
 _Listen to Iron Maiden baby with me._

By the time you did lay eyes on her, the worst thing that could have happened already had itself set in motion. Your older brother had laid eyes on her before you even had a chance to get your footing in the world of girls and how to talk to them. Hell, you still don't have your footing in that world, but that's not the fuckin' point. The point is that Cronus, then a junior, snapped her up like the greasy fuckin' shark he is. 

Sure, he had no idea that you had the hots for her. Not even in the slightest. Even if he had, he wouldn't have given a single shit about it. He would have laughed and asked her out anyway, because he doesn't give a damn about you. You're sure that if you had been able to gather up the balls to talk to her then, back when you were freshmen, it would have worked out. You're sure and all your friends are well aware of how sure you are. You talk about it a lot. The sad fact is that you didn't; Cronus did. 

_Her boyfriend's a dick,_  
 _And he brings a gun to school._  
 _He'd simply kick_  
 _My ass if he knew the truth._  
 _He lives on my block,_  
 _And he drives an IROC,_

_But he doesn't know who I am.  
And he doesn't give a damn about me._

The worst of it is that you have to see them together. He's long since graduated high school, but you see them around the house -- you hear it when they're... Your room is right next to his. Despite the fact that you live in a veritable mansion, the walls are paper-thin. Sometimes you want to punch a fuckin' hole in 'em, but usually you just smash your face into your pillow and try to fall asleep.

She's talked to you a few times at home. Saturday mornings. She spends the night some Fridays, and Saturday morning when she wakes up hung over and wanders into the kitchen while you're making breakfast, she'll talk to you. She'll ask you about school, about the science project or the math homework. You get the feeling, sometimes, like she might like to hear about the LARP team, but you never say anything about it. Why would you? She already thinks you're a loser. Why would you make it worse? 

_'Cause I'm just a teenage dirtbag baby,_  
 _Yeah I'm just a teenage dirtbag baby._  
 _Listen to Iron Maiden baby with me..._

You snap out of your self-pitying daydream quick when the bell rings and you almost think you have to go to gym class, but then you remember. It's a half-day today. It's prom night. The girls with hair appointments got to go home before third period, and everyone else gets to leave before lunch. You have prom tickets and you've even got a formal outfit, complete with badass cape, but you're starting to wonder what the point of it all is. Sure, there'll be some great pictures for the LARP team's website, but...

_Oh yeah, dirtbag.  
No, she doesn't know what she's missin'._

You groan internally. The photoshoot for the team is over, and you guess it's time to head into the dance. Vriska pushes past everyone, as per usual, dragging Tavros by the wrist behind her. You're lagging behind, though, staring down the gymnasium like it's the last place you want to be right now. Aradia stops on her way in, nudging you with her elbow.

You take a moment to look at her. She's wearing this flowing white dress, tattered at the edges, with some maroon accents. It contrasts with your black-blue-purple ensemble in the same way that her friendly smile contrasts with your self-aggrandizing scowl slash pout mashup. "Hey, why the long face? The pictures turned out great!" she's saying. You snap back to reality and catch up with her words.

"Yeah, but what's the fuckin' point? I'm just gonna go in there an' sit at a table with you an' Nep an' Rezi while we watch Vris drag Tav across the dancefloor like she does at every fuckin' dance." You cross your arms and huff, turning your gaze again to look at the intimidating double doors of your high school's gymnasium.

"Yeah, but it's fun! Come on, Eridan, turn that frown upside down. At least there'll be punch!" She laughs, and you can't help but smile. Aradia has always had this weird way of cheering you up, even when you feel like it's impossible. You follow her into the gym and head to the table you'll share with the rest of the LARPers.

_Man, I feel like mold,  
It's prom night and I am lonely..._

At some point during the night, which is actually turning out better than expected, Aradia, Terezi and Nepeta disembark to use the restroom. They promise to come back with punch and to regale you with the tale of their treacherous journey, and you stay to hold down the fort. Vriska is, as promised, dragging a helpless Tavros around the dance floor, but you're not really paying attention to that. It got old after the first ten minutes. Instead, you just stare at the table, fidgeting with your empty glass.

_Lo and behold,  
She's walkin' over to me._

Unexpectedly, you spot Roxy Lalonde from across the room. For some reason, you hadn't thought she'd be present at prom. Cronus was too old to come, so she'd be dateless, though you suppose she could be here to hang out with friends. You very nearly disregard it and go back to spinning your glass when you swear her gaze meets yours. She smiles at you, and gives a little wave. You have no idea how else to react, so you wave back, and before you know it, she's headed over to your table.

_This must be fake,_  
 _My lip starts to shake,_  
 _How does she know who I am?_  
 _And why does she give a damn about me?_

You have no fuckin' clue what's going on, and when she sits down next to you with the dorky grin you've pined after for years plastered over her face, you're even more confused. "Fancy seein' you here," she says, all cheer and toothy smiles.

"Uh... Yeah. I didn't think you'd be here, since Cro's too old to come an' all," you blurt. Goddamnit. Did you have to bring him up?

She just laughs, though. "So what? You think I'm gonna let that stop me from havin' a good time? Well, you thought wrong, mister."

You give a nervous chuckle. Why is she here? What does she want? "Well, I'm glad you came, I guess," you say awkwardly. Roxy's pitching a perfect no-hitter and you're striking out. 

"Hey, me too! I was lookin' for you, actually." Oh god. What? "I got these tickets to this sci-fi fantasy convention this weekend. Cronus said you were into that sorta thing, so I was wonderin' if you'd wanna come with?" 

She's smiling and waiting for an answer, but you're frozen. Your heart feels like it's simultaneously in your throat and in your stomach and you think you might explode. Is she serious? Is this even real? 

_I got two tickets to Iron Maiden, baby_  
 _Come with me Friday, don't say maybe._  
 _I'm just a teenage dirtbag baby, like you._

"He'd love to!" comes Nepeta's voice from behind you, and you can feel yourself deflating with relief. 

You manage to find your voice and accompany it with a nod. "Uh, yeah, I would love to, actually. Sounds like a blast."

"Sweet! I'll give you the deets later on at your place," she says, and she's gone in a flash of perfect blonde hair and pink bedazzled dress.

You stare after her, your mouth half-open in shock. Had that just happened? Were you in heaven?

You're yanked out of your reverie once more by giggling from your three companions. "I ship it _so_ hard," Nepeta says, and they all laugh again. You'd scowl at them, but you can't find it in you.

_Oh yeah, dirtbag,  
No, she doesn't know what she's missin'._


End file.
